One fine day
A dragon
Decided
To take up residence
Within the village red telephone box
A meeting was called
In the quietly quaint village hall
The dragon was not invited
The villagers
Came up with a myriad of suggestions
Some suggested shooting the dragon
But thankfully
That was shouted down
Some suggested
Selling it to a zoo, or circus
Not so many protested this proposition
But, not one of them realised
That this was a baby dragon
The baby dragon
Viewed its surroundings
Through the red square holes
Of the old telephone box
And was now trapped
As it had doubled in size overnight
And sighed
It sighed so heavily
That flames shot forth
From it's now large flaring firey nostrils
And such was the intensity of the heat
That the metallic red, square windowed, old telephone box
Melted
So the dragon was now able to break free
And fly free
The villagers
Hearing the noise of it all
Dashed out of their
Cosy three-bedroomed
Thatched country cottages
And watched
As the dragon flew off
Into the sunset
Never to be seen again!

by Jemia